


The Alpha Point

by BeBunny



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Control, D/s, Flirting, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeBunny/pseuds/BeBunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected discovery between friends leads to a redefining of boundaries, but will it affect the delicate balance in their close knit team? How could it not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”_  
>  Victor Hugo

**Derek Morgan**

The bar under his fingers was tacky, a shade away from sticky. 

Five by Five attracted a colorful crowd, one perhaps more prone to drinks in ten neon shades of sickly than the smoky-hot burn of whiskey like Rossi’s dives. Derek could feel the beat thump through the wood, a tingle in his fingers that pooled in his belly. He paused, feeling the vibrations through his bones.   
A brunette further down the bar tipped her drink towards him with a smirk, he returned the gesture. Perhaps later.

He had always disliked the phrase ‘favorite haunt’; it invoked aimless ghosts desperate to alleviate boredom or loneliness. If anything Five by Five pulsed with life. No, this was more of a preferred hunting ground, though then he hovered a touch too close to the realm of unsubs and profiling and frankly it was a box he’d rather not peek inside.   
Truth was, he could find anything here, whatever he had a hankering for. Men, women or those few that didn’t really fall into such restrictive categories. Five by Five had long relinquished its reputation as a gay bar and embraced its future as an urban haven of free thinking and experimentation. There was a catchy tag line there, something that wasn’t too wordy to fit on a beer mat.   
He scanned the crowd and returned a few interested glances in his direction. There was a young guy by the stairs whose terrible taste in Hawaiian shirts hadn’t marred his otherwise perfect Heath Ledger vibe, he was definitely leaning further in that direction tonight, especially since the guy was making no secret of checking him out.   
A face caught his eye in the crowd, familiar and utterly unexpected. For a moment he lost sight of it and almost convinced himself it was a trick of the DJ’s dodgy laser display, but it reappeared a few feet further into the press of bodies. There!

Spencer Reid looked like nothing Derek had ever seen. Eyes closed and mouth parted his moves were deliberately angled to tease the guy dancing with him. Wherever Reid had learned those moves they were obviously working, the guy’s hands were all over him, resting finally on Spencer’s hips to sway to the music. This Spencer and the one Derek worked with every day was as ice is to fire. This Spencer was all sharp lines and long fingers, all confidence and invitation.   
Sweat stuck Spencer’s curls to his brow and as the dancers were pressed further together his partner shouted something over the music. Spencer’s expression went slack, and Derek swallowed hard, whatever this guy had just said it made Reid look like sin itself. Derek noted wryly he wasn’t the only one looking, the pair were drawing all kinds of attention from the gallery and from other dancers. It shook him a little, he was used to a Spencer who shied away from unfamiliar touch, who would allow all other agents to enter a room before him so he could avoid shaking someone’s hand.  
Derek realized they were moving, Spencer apparently content to allow this guy to tug him through the worst knots of the crowd. It occurred to him to wonder briefly if they knew each other, but somewhere like Five by Five, that wasn’t really the point. He scooped up his drink from the bar and made a move to intersect them. On the way he grabbed the guy by the stairs, swerving him purposefully towards the dance floor. He had no idea if Spencer knew his sexual preferences, profiler or no, but if there was ever a way to come out to one of your best friends…  
His timing was perfect, Spencer exited the throng of dancers just as Derek reached it and as if he couldn’t have planned it any better, the Hawaiian shirt guy slung his arms around Derek’s shoulders. He kissed the him flirtatiously tasting strawberry daiquiri, breaking off just in time to catch Spencer’s eye.   
Unhurried he used that moment of Spencer’s shock to look his friend over, allowing just the faintest touch of appreciation color his expression. It only lasted the briefest of moments, before Spencer’s oblivious partner tugged him away, towards the exit. Derek didn’t miss the couple of times Spencer turned his head on the way, seeking him out again.   
He knew they would explore that encounter together soon, for now, he was content enough to find his groove and get this guy out of his horrific shirt as soon as possible.

**o**

Reid was late in. Somehow Morgan wasn’t surprised.   
When the others shuffled over, budging their chairs over to allow Spencer and his morning whirlwind to sit down and dump his coffee and bag Derek took the time to look at him, really _look_ at him.   
The kid was a chameleon, anyone who hadn’t seen him grinding against some mountain of a man on a sweaty dance floor last night could well believe he had in fact spent the night reading or researching, eventually falling asleep at his desk or dragging himself to bed in the small hours. Some mornings Reid looked entirely ragged, as though he’d slept in his clothes. The illusion of driven intellectual was complete, because every lie contains a grain of truth.   
Morgan became aware he was staring, he wrenched his eyes away from Spencer’s bleary eyed expression and tried not to think too much about how the kid was chewing on that pen.

Their collision finally happened that afternoon, by the coffee machine after a relatively successful day of not-really-avoiding-each-other.  
“Hey kid.” He ventured  
Spencer smiled from his unruly curls, pushing them out of his face. “Hey.”   
“I didn’t know you..”  
“No, me neither.”  
Derek took a moment of composure, needing to start again. It would be the worst thing in the world for them to become awkward around each other, especially since the team would wonder why and he didn’t want to be the one to blow Reid’s cover. Besides, he hated being anything but completely natural around his friends, as hard as that was sometimes. No need to make it worse.   
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, “I was just taken aback that’s all. You wanna grab a burger after work and we can work this out?”  
“I don’t really see what there is to work out I just..”  
Derek held up a steadying hand “No, not saying you do, we probably just have more questions than answers right now and I’d like to make sure we’re all good.”  
Spencer did it again, the dropped smile under his hair, not quite making eye contact. How in the hell had he spent this much time with Reid and never realized how adorable that was?  
“Alright.”  
“Alright?”  
“Sure.”  
Derek watched Reid make his way back to his stack of files and paperwork, he couldn't help wondering if perhaps instead of clearing the air, this was all about to make things a hell of a lot more complicated. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“True happiness arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's self, and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions.”_  
>  Joseph Addison

**Spencer Reid**

Somehow, despite being a double booth it felt as though the two of them were crowded in. Spencer could somehow feel the heat rising from Morgan’s skin. He moistened his lips, a little nervous and trying to find a negotiating path between his two selves. 

This was a new situation for him. Socially speaking he had no real idea how he would begin to navigate this conversation. Starting with the facts he tried to at least arm himself for whatever outcome was most likely. He knew he always looked to Morgan for support at work, a solid rock of a friend who never ever gave up on him. Morgan would probably try to do the same here, citing more experience and freedom of expression. Aside from age Spencer realized he couldn't make an educated guess which one of them had been more 'active' than the other since they'd met. A confession he wasn't sure he was ready to make.

He was struck suddenly with how strong Morgan's hands were, turning his car keys over idly between his fingers, deft and confident. He’d never really given Derek a second look since at work he was so focused it bordered on obsessive.

_Why not?_

If he was entirely honest with himself Morgan was everything he looked _for_ , it had been right under his nose for years and yet…

“So kid, seems we haven’t been entirely honest with each other.”  
Spencer grinned, he nodded slightly but couldn’t help himself; “Technically we’ve never really discussed this directly, I never lied, nor did I ever ask you outright if you were..”  
“Gay?”  
“Well, certainly anything other than straight. Women always seem so keen, you tend to return their affections.”  
Derek hadn’t taken his eyes off Spencer’s face, it was unusual to be the focus of this much attention from anyone on the team, generally they preferred a policy of personal space unless it qualified as an emergency or perhaps a crisis of conscience, and hadn’t they all been through that once or twice.  
“I’m not so good with labels” Derek said, shifting his sunglasses out of the way of the waitress and their drinks.  
“Me neither I guess.”  
“You looked good enough on the dance floor, I didn’t really expect that.” Derek swirled his straw around in his milkshake as he spoke, apparently as distracted as Spencer.  
“Did it make you uncomfortable?”  
“Uncomfortable?”  
“I could understand if it did, humans are, essentially a sum of their experiences, I guess you could argue that your entire experience of me has been within the confines of a particular set of para..”  
“Reid, stop!” Derek said, but he was grinning, a good sign. “It was hot as hell.”  
Derek was leaning right back, arm slung across the back of the booth. That same look of appreciation had crept back into his features.  
Spencer blinked. That certainly changed a few things. He had figured they were there to reaffirm their friendship, recognize they’d been caught in an unexpected position and move on, if Derek was actually flirting with him then that made a whole world of difference.  
He sipped his coffee and sat pensively for a moment. He knew if they crossed this line then there might be a lot at risk. He wasn’t a stranger to his own needs, his own peculiar set of desires, but whether Morgan would be into that was a whole different question.  
He thought about Morgan’s propensity for kicking down doors and his uncontested reputation as the team’s bulldog. Even when Spencer knew Morgan was deliberately eliciting an emotional response from a suspect via displays of aggression it could startle him. Even now, as relaxed as he was here in the booth, a friend could tell he was a coiled spring.  
Somehow, Spencer knew his needs wouldn’t be a problem.  
Well, if they were going to cross that line, they’d better make it mean something, but they were certainly going to do it on Spencer’s terms. At least at first.  
Spencer let himself relax, tried to find the entirely separate head-space he reserved for more recreational pursuits. He needed Morgan to pick up on a very specific set of vibes, if you believed in that sort of thing. He had faith, Morgan was one of the best profilers he knew. Whether or not they adhered to the unspoken rule of not profiling one another, he was still as sensitive to body language as the rest of them.  
“Hot as hell.” He repeated to himself, his voice a million miles from Derek’s seductive drawl. That was ok, that particular trick could wait.  
“That’s what I said pretty boy.”  
It was stuff like that, Spencer figured, that had meant he’d never really considered Derek seriously. How the hell did you sort out flirting from nicknames, it was why he stuck to the clubs where at least people wore their intentions on their naked sweaty biceps. There was no gray language and he couldn’t miss a cue.

_Pretty boy. Yeah well, we’ll see._

“So, you have a preference?” He asked.  
“A preference? For what?”  
“Men, women?”  
Derek laughed and picked at his basket of fries. “Not really, as long as they grind my gears whatever, I’m just happy to share a little lovin’ you know?”  
“I’m gay.” Spencer said, a touch too defiantly. He could probably have counted the number of times he’d said that out loud on one hand. His mother maybe, one evening to JJ over dinner, it seemed at work it didn’t really matter and the rest of the time it was just more important to make his intentions clear. It was one of the few situations in which he communicated much more effectively non verbally.  
“Do you have a type?”

_Type? What am I an unsub now?_

Spencer snorted into his shake. Did he have a type? Well, anyone physically stronger than him, and that included, well just about anyone. He knew he was still kidding himself with that, he had definite preferences, but it wasn’t time to air that just yet. “Dunno, maybe.”  
“I see.” Derek smirked.

_Do you? Do you really?_

Spencer reached across the table and stole a fry from Derek’s basket, very purposefully maintaining eye contact. He was having to work harder at this than normal to appear natural, but its very unnaturalness was beginning to feel exciting.  
“What gets you off Morgan?” He asked, slowly lifting the fry to his mouth.  
Derek looked momentarily taken aback, but it lasted only a second before he regained his cool composure. Every inch the FBI agent.  
“That’s a hell of a question.”  
“You don’t have to answer.”  
“Nah, it’s all good.” Derek shifted slightly in his seat, looking over his shoulder to ensure their relative privacy. “A little skin, a lot of heat. It’s all about the connection.”  
Even a freshman at the academy could have watched the walls go up, hurriedly constructed under Morgan’s amiable suave. Spencer realized he was going to have to be more direct if he wanted to communicate his desires loud enough for Derek to hear them.  
“I bet you’re a tender lover, all flowers and massage.” Spencer mused, it was a bluff, but Morgan had a blind spot where Spencer’s poker face was concerned and it was a calculated risk. He knew something had struck home as Derek’s fingers flexed involuntarily. As mocking went it was relatively innocuous.  
“I suppose I can be.” Morgan replied, he didn’t even look like he convinced himself.  
“But you prefer..”  
“A firmer touch.”  
“Oh,” Spencer tried to feign surprise as he would misdirection, let Derek think he was gaining the upper hand. “So it’s about control?”  
“Don’t you go profiling me kid,” Derek laughed, “I’m not that easy.”  
Spencer smirked, going with it. “So you don’t like to hear them beg?” He mustered as much innocence as he could into the question, but God did he hope the answer was yes. Derek raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. Spencer knew he was treading a very fine line. People on the whole don’t like to be confronted with their fantasies or where they might stem from, Derek was almost certainly one of them.  
He leaned back, mirroring Derek’s relaxed posture. “I bet you’re a real tease.”  
“And what if I am?” Morgan said smugly, “would you beg me? Let me make the call on when and where to touch you?”

_There you go._

“Oh I’m not about to go giving away all my secrets!” Spencer replied, “I like to retain a certain air of mystery, like any good magician.”  
To his credit Morgan didn’t flinch, he knew he’d played a hand too soon but it was becoming increasingly obvious that Spencer had piqued his interest in a way he hadn’t been expecting.  
“I’ll make you a deal though,” Spencer offered. “I’ll ask you one more question and I’ll answer it in kind if you ask.”  
“Alright, go for it.”  
“What’s your favorite word?”  
“What?” Derek laughed into the remains of his shake “What does that have to do with..”  
“Just wanna know.”  
Derek pressed a finger to his mouth in concentration, tapping on the table.  
“Don’t over think it, it’s not an analysis tool or anything, just whatever comes to mind.” Spencer said.  
“Storm.” He said finally.  
Spencer nodded, apparently mulling this over.  
“Well? What’s yours?” Morgan pressed  
Spencer closed his eyes for a second, knowing that this was the precipice from which there was no return, if he crossed that line his relationship with Morgan would be irrevocably altered.

_But then, if that wasn’t the goal, why are you even here?_

He scooted around the table, and stepped down off the booth’s platform, dropping a twenty on the table to cover his bill. For a moment he seemed like he was ready to leave without a reply.  
“C’mon kid, what’s your favorite word?” Derek urged.  
Spencer leaned in until his mouth almost brushed the shell of Morgan’s ear. He could smell the spice and detergent that was so unmistakably _Morgan_ and wondered once more why he had never considered this. He finally found the space he occupied in the clubs and in all the apartments afterward where he’d earned bruised knees and learned his place. Dropping his voice to something approaching sultry he whispered the only answer he wanted to give, the only answer that would communicate everything he wanted from Morgan.

“Please.”

He left without another word, straight to the door and out. Only when he crossed the street did he allow himself to slow down and see if he could catch sight of Morgan through the window. He was sat in the same seat, fingers templed and his chin rested on them. But it was Morgan’s expression that had Spencer breathless. As if he knew he was being watched Morgan lifted his gaze to meet Spencer’s and nothing but dark promise and _want_ was written there. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.”_  
>  Alfred Lord Tennyson

**Derek Morgan**

Paperwork was a bitch.   
Derek unclenched his teeth and glared at the squiggly, unruly line straight up and through his report notes. Turbulence struck again and he placed a steadying hand over his glass to stop yet more misfortune falling on his hard work. Beside him Rossi slowly, consciously released his vice-like grip on the table, the color slowly returning to his knuckles.

“I’m sorry JJ, what were you saying?” Rossi said sheepishly.

JJ waved off the apology and handed out briefing notes. “Two females dead, one male, all in their early thirties, none of them married or, as far as we’re aware, in a relationship.”

“Is that the only connection?” Emily asked, flipping through photographs of the crime scenes.

“They were all dumped not more than a mile outside city limits, no attempt was made to hide the bodies, no signs of sexual assault.”

“Not a sexual sadist then..” Reid chipped in. He had barely spoken all day, lost inside some inner conversation. Hotch had even taken him aside before boarding the jet, but neither looked concerned afterward. Derek wondered if it had anything to do with their conversation at the diner but wrote that off as a lack of context, not even worthy of paranoia.   
Turns out professionalism was an easy habit to return to really, they’d slipped back into routine like nothing had happened. After the stunt Spencer had pulled by walking out on him like that he’d all but chased him down the street. Goddamn if it hadn’t been one hell of a fantasy that night though, laying on top of his sheets with images of Spencer begging him for something, anything…

“Morgan?”

Derek looked up, startled. Hotch was frowning. More than usual. “Sorry..?”

“I want you and Reid to head to the latest dump site, its technically part of a farm but the owner has agreed to help however he can. Try and find out what else that access road is used for.”

“Sure Boss.”

Reid caught his eye from across the aisle, saying something about a geographical profile. “Could you hand me that survey map? Please?”

Derek looked up sharply, but Reid was just holding his hand out for the map. Passing it over Derek looked for something, anything that would give away what Spencer had just done. No one else was paying any undue attention and Reid looked for all the world like he was simply putting all that PhD recognized genius to work. Nevertheless, Derek had heard it, the same tone, the same intonation just like before. Spencer had poured out that “please” like syrup.

_Oh, OK Pretty Boy. That’s how its gonna be._

**o**

The farm was expansive, too many acres to be worked successfully by just one family. The ramshackle house just another indication the area had fallen on hard times. The owner hadn’t really had anything useful to add, certainly nothing that the police hadn’t already gotten out of him.

Reid leaned on the hood of their car as he updated Hotch and Rossi.  
“Itinerant workers sometimes come looking for employment, but he hasn’t been able to offer them anything in years. Yeah, that particular track gets used by local kids as an off road four wheeler track. Uh huh, well, he’s considering selling up.”

As he spoke he seemed to be leaning a little further over the car than he needed to, studying the local map, but nothing he was saying would require referencing it. The position was tugging his pants tight over the curve of his ass. Morgan had begun to realize full well what Spencer was trying to pull, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t working.

“Yes Sir,” Spencer continued, “In the morning? It’s really too late to canvas them now. OK.”

Derek moved closer, almost to crowd Spencer. By the time he hung up and stood to turn around Morgan was right in his face. Spencer dropped his gaze.

“Uh…Hotch wants us to turn in, get some rest and start knocking on…” He cleared his throat as Morgan shifted his weight onto the other foot, clearly not intending to move back. “Uh knocking on doors tomorrow to find some of the kids that race out here.”

“You wanna drive?” Derek asked, as levelly as possible.

“Uh yeah, ok, sure..” Spencer stammered, realizing that Morgan had no real intention of moving out of the way. Carefully, with a delicate slide of his hips he extradited himself from the narrow space between Morgan and the car. Contact was inevitable and Derek smirked as he held his ground, expression intentionally stoic.

**o**

The flimsy plastic drawer handle came off in his hand as he slammed the damn thing shut. Sure, the bureau didn’t have a huge budget for accommodation but surely they could afford working ventilation and furniture that stayed in one piece.   
The trouble with Southern California was, as far as Derek was concerned, the noise. Whenever they ended up on a case this far south it was always, without fail, somewhere rural. His window was propped open with his empty laptop case and there were no cars, no sirens, nothing urban at all. Several bashes on the back of the remote hadn’t had any effect on the TV either, the sole channel it was receiving seemed to be playing nothing but an infomercial for home gym equipment, on loop.

He flopped back down onto the bed, defeated.

At least he had cell signal. For a moment he considered calling his mother, just to hear another voice for a few minutes, but an email from Spencer was flashing on the notifications list.   
It was nothing urgent, a file related to the case, but it catapulted Spencer right back up to the front of his mind. He pulled up the text screen and typed out a quick message. To be honest it was doubtful whether he would even get a reply, Reid preferred much more direct communication and if his phone wasn’t ringing or he wasn’t expecting a file he tended to ignore it completely.

U awake? DM

He left it to take a shower, but by the time he returned the notification light was blinking.

I assume you aren’t referring to the letter ‘U’. I’m still awake, yes. I’m reading.

What r ‘you’ reading? DM

A minute or two passed before his phone buzzed. Spencer was not a fast texter, nor was he one to quickly forgive what he considered grammatical pillage.

A treatise on the statistical probability of domestic abuse relating to drug offenses. Well documented but there has been some interesting new research led by Prof. Zoe Spencer at Virginia State.

Derek shook his head, it would probably be difficult to sway Reid from turning his attention from the academic. Unless, that is, he was completely direct. He hadn’t missed Spencer’s earlier signals, of that he was completely sure. He typed out a reply, paused for a moment then sighed before hitting send.

Shame, I was hoping you’d say ‘porn’ DM

_Well, no going back now._

Several minutes went by with no reply and Derek started to wonder if perhaps that had been a little inappropriate. Second guessing himself was not a favorite activity but he was no stranger to drops in self confidence. He began to imagine scenarios where Hotch called him into his office back home, demanding to know why he had been sexually harassing poor Dr Reid. When his phone finally did buzz, it startled him.

How do you know I’m not?

_That answers that question._

I really don’t. DM

Well, I’m right next door. Why don’t you come and find out?

_Ok this is it…_

Derek paced for a moment, he was freshly showered, but he was still in a towel. He decided against staying in the towel, too obvious. He regarded his boxers, which were frankly, even worse. He settled on getting dressed again clean clothes, new shirt. After a moment’s thought he added his tie. He figured he was beginning to develop a bit of an idea of what Spencer was really after, and that meant being, at least for now, Agent Derek Morgan. The tie meant the complete package, everything except his gun and his credentials. He took those too.

Smartly he rapped on Spencer’s door. When it opened he aimed for something in the area of suave, leaning up against the door post, cocky grin to top it off. He nearly dropped the whole thing though as soon as he saw Spencer.   
Late nights suited Dr Reid, he’d spend hours poring over case files or research long after others had thrown in the towel. Early mornings were the realm of his coffee habit and peering through glasses. Derek had spent precious few nights with him like that and had never really paid any attention until now.   
Spencer was bedraggled in the best way. He had rolled up his shirt sleeves and given up taming his hair. One button was undone, exposing his collarbone. He held a black dossier file in his hands.

“Dr Reid.” Morgan said and almost fist pumped when his voice came out even and calm.

Spencer didn’t reply, he simply stepped aside to allow Morgan access. Closing the door behind Derek he lifted up the file. “I suppose you want to know if this is an academic paper, or, as you may have correctly guessed, uh.. porn?” He said.

Derek tipped his head to one side. “And I suppose you’re not going to just tell me?”

Spencer smirked. “You could try to see for yourself, you’re trained in multiple disarming techniques.”

Derek didn’t move a muscle. They both knew this was the real turning point for them, the point at which the redefined exactly what they needed from each other. He wanted to get it right. From Spencer’s demeanor there wasn’t the whole picture here, as much as that felt like an invitation to overpower him he really didn’t think Spencer was only interested in a display of physical strength.

_The threat of one?_

He realized he had managed to back Spencer up against the dresser, not too close, but the kid had nowhere to run. There was no fear, no apprehension in his eyes, only trust, but he had begun to breathe a little harder. Derek realized his own posture was channeling full on Agent Morgan. He decided to trust his gut.

“Give me the file kid.” He said, holding out his hand like he was asking for a gun.

Spencer’s chest rose and fell as he appeared to consider his options. Morgan didn’t give him the chance to over think it.

“Give me the file now. That’s an order.”

Slowly, Spencer raised his arm to hand over the file. Morgan took it without a word, and with not so much as a glance at it, let it drop to the floor behind him, eyes glued to Spencer’s face. Spencer bit his bottom lip and Morgan knew for sure he’d made the right call. Slowly but purposefully he closed the gap between them, lifting his hand to Spencer’s face to grip his chin. For a second he simply looked, watched all of Spencer’s words fall away from him and then, kissed his prize.

Spencer yielded to him, arching his back into the embrace and meeting Derek’s tongue with his own. There was nothing hurried between them, their dance was fluid, powerful. Derek swiveled his hips slightly to force his thigh between Spencer’s legs eliciting a moan from him as soon as he realized Derek intended Spencer to grind against him. Morgan let go of Spencer’s jaw to slide his hand down the length of Spencer’s ribs, resting finally on his ass, pressing and pulling to encourage him to take advantage of the position.

He could feel Spencer’s growing erection, it made him want to touch more skin. Spencer’s focus was all intent and vigilance now, he was watching Derek’s every move, waiting for any kind of cue. Derek shushed him to calm his breathing and carefully unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. He was so pale compared to Derek, such a stunning contrast. He brushed the shirt over Spencer’s shoulders and let his fingers play over his skin, it made Spencer shiver, but he was pretty sure the room wasn’t cold.

They kissed again and Derek reached for Spencer’s belt buckle, batting away not-really-resisting hands and tugged the belt forcibly loose. It made Spencer’s weight shift until he pulled back against it.

“Pants off Pretty Boy.” Derek said quietly.

Spencer retained eye contact as he popped the button. Shrugging down his pants he stepped lightly out of them, he had been wearing no underwear.

“You’re just full of surprises huh?” Derek laughed. He ran the tips of his fingers up the underside of Spencer’s cock, smirking when it twitched in response. Derek’s own need was starting to cloud his desire. “Down on your knees.” He whispered, brushing his lips against Spencer’s ear.

Spencer folded slowly, allowing Derek to support him on the way down. Derek wanted everything, wanted to take all that Spencer had to offer tonight, but it was going to take time to work up to that. Achingly slowly he undid his belt and unzipped his fly, untucking himself and stroking his proud cock a few inches from Spencer’s mouth.   
The first “please?” came unbidden from Spencer, his voice dry and cracked on his first try. The second was more sure, though just as low.

No other words were needed, Derek tangled one hand in Reid’s curls and guided his head forward. As Spencer worked, using his tongue to tease and stroke while he withdrew and advanced Derek traced the line of Spencer’s mouth where it met the dark skin of his cock.

“Oh Pretty Boy..” he gasped “So good at that, so good.”

The sheer overwhelming warmth of Spencer’s mouth, the low gasps and moans that he let slip while Derek stroked his hair were electric. It didn’t take long before he was gripping a little tighter, grunting on every thrust as Spencer let Derek set the pace. His climax was sudden and brutal. He only just managed to stop himself crying out. The walls of this hotel were paper thin and Rossi would surely have heard something on the other side.

Gasping for air he pulled Spencer up into his arms, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Spencer’s already swollen and reddened lips. When he felt like he could at least breathe again he took stock. Spencer was naked, waiting for his next move.   
He did his pants up and straightened, gesturing towards the bed.

_I really hope I’m not wrong about this._

“Kneel down here Pretty Boy.” He said, indicating the floor beside the bed. Spencer dropped to his knees once more and Derek knelt behind him. Pressing his head down so that his forehead was touching the bed Derek stroked Spencer’s back. “I bet you wanna cum real bad now don’t you?”

Spencer whimpered in response, only slightly muffled by the bedsheets.

“Well..” Derek purred, embracing Spencer from behind. He let his hands travel round to Spencer’s waist and drop until he was gripping Spencer’s cock. He squeezed a couple of times, marveling at how hard he was. “You can.”   
He reached up and gathered one of Spencer’s hands, guiding it down until Spencer was stroking himself, albeit with the preciously slow pace Derek set.

Rocking back onto his heels Derek stood, drinking in the sight of Spencer kneeling on the floor jerking himself off. “You can cum, as long as you stay like that while you do.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Spencer’s head. “Good boy.”

Straightening his tie Derek retreated to the door of the room, memorizing the scene. Spencer had turned his head so he could watch Derek’s movement.

“See you in the morning Pretty Boy.” He said, before slipping out into the hallway, leaving Spencer alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“Our concern must be to live while we're alive - to release our inner selves from the spiritual death that comes with living behind a facade designed to conform to external definitions of who and what we are.”_  
>  Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

**Spencer Reid**

A thunderstorm was gathering.

Spencer rubbed his temples and rolled over onto his back. His alarm was still nine minutes from bleating and his mouth tasted like he’d been licking a carpet. Groaning he wrenched himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  
The shower was refreshing, if lackluster. He washed his hair a section at a time, hoping he’d managed to rinse enough of the soap out. Perhaps it really was time to get a haircut, like Rossi kept insinuating.

_If my hair was too short he wouldn’t be able to.._

Last night came flooding back, vivid images of Morgan’s face, his tie, deft fingers unzipping pants.

“Ohh.” Spencer said involuntarily. Sometimes an eidetic memory is a curse. Endless crime scenes and graphic reports passed through his hands, many of which he wished he could allow to trickle through his memory and fade. But there was a silver lining, a shining blessing that allowed him to replay whole loops of experience. Some of those he held very dear indeed.  
He leaned back against the cold tile, water splashing half heartedly off his chest and closed his eyes.

_Was it revenge Morgan, is that why you left, because I left you?_

An expression full of promise through a diner’s window and the sensation of Derek’s shirt rubbing on his naked back, the way Spencer’s knees scraped over the carpet with the weight of him crowded his memory. Dark hands around his waist, his cock…

_Yeah well, won’t be the last time, not if I have anything to do with it. You wanna show me you’re the boss? Prove it._

**o**

Morning briefing was overshadowed by a somber mood. Another body had been found overnight and they were no closer to narrowing a list of suspects. Reid added what he could to support the profile as Hotch delivered it, stony faced, to the local PD. White male, in his thirties..

Morgan was scowling, sure there was something they had overlooked. Garcia placated him as best she could over speaker, running what they had so far through local hospital records. He suggested they expand their search to doctor’s practices in the county in an attempt to widen the net, but all she could offer was that it would take time. All they knew was that he was likely self medicating.

In an effort to stop Morgan pacing like a caged animal Reid suggested they go as planned to find the kids that raced out on the farm, it was better than nothing and JJ and Garcia could keep them updated with anything new. Hotch agreed, and though Morgan was none too happy about the situation he grudgingly let Spencer tug him out of the door.

Morgan seemed to regain a little of his composure once they were out in the fresh air, even turning on the radio in the car. It had always been Reid’s observation that Morgan performed best with action, even if it was the smallest contribution to the case. Whatever the reason he was grateful, no one liked to see Morgan in that mood and it had clearly been putting the Sheriff on edge.

Spencer twisted to reach a file on the back seat and Derek pushed him back, hand on his chest while they paused at an intersection. Slowly, Derek reached up and brushed a muffin crumb from the corner of Spencer’s mouth. Flashes from the night before; sensations and images of Derek’s fingers brushing his mouth while he swallowed raced unbidden into his mind.

“Uh..we..uh..should probably start with the Cooper family..?” he stammered, well aware that Derek was just watching him.

“We’re starting with the Lowes, two doors down.” Derek replied, twisting the wheel to turn right as they followed the road.

“Sure, uh..your call.” Spencer said.

“Yes it is.”

Spencer knew if they were going to play this game it really shouldn’t seep into their work, but it was innocent really, just deciding where they would begin canvasing. Even so, it felt delicious.

**o**

Sometimes it worried Spencer how much they relied on chance and happenstance to break a case. Emily had called Garcia from the latest crime scene to check out a plate number and suddenly everything had fallen into place.  
Spencer gripped the door as Derek lurched round corners and recklessly overtook, wheels squealing. Headlamps swung by in the fading light and there were ominous sirens in the distance.

They pulled in next to several squad cars and Rossi’s black SUV. The noise was overwhelming and as much as Spencer was as prepared as any of his team for this part he was never as fast as Morgan for getting on point. He followed at the back with his gun raised, police on either side of him, Hotch in front as they entered. Morgan disappeared around the back of the property with Prentiss.

The house was dark and they had cleared not two rooms before three flashes lit up the hallway. There were shouts and some confusion, and the cop next to him was hissing into his radio.

“Shots fired!”

**o**

It was too late for wheels up, they would have to endure another night in the hotel that appeared to be held together with electrical tape. Emily suggested a meal out, the sole restaurant nearby being a dive that only Rossi could feel at home in. Still, it came highly recommended by the Sheriff, on account of it belonging to his brother.  
It was easy company to be in, JJ and Emily told stories of flirting gone bad, until Rossi added stories of his own and everyone decided they’d rather not know. Even Derek laughed a little, his mood beginning to lighten. They knew to give him a few hours, he always reacted a little badly when a suspect died during apprehension.

A few drinks later they tread wearily back to their rooms, well ready for sleep. Spencer caught his key in the lock, swearing under his breath when he found he could neither open the door nor get the key back out. He contemplated the trudge back down two flights to the service desk.  
All at once the was a warm weight at his back and a husky voice in his ear.

“You’re impatient, let me try.”

Derek slid his fingers down Spencer’s forearm to where his hand rested on the key, gently, with a tap and a wiggle the lock clunked and the door swung open. Spencer found himself guided inside without a word and the door swung shut behind them.

His shirt was open before he’d gotten his bearings, Derek, all attitude and roaming hands was forcing him backwards against the over sized armchair at the foot of the bed. The window, partway open reflected their bodies briefly as Derek leaned in to kiss Spencer, gathering a handful of his hair as he did so. There was noise from Rossi’s room next door, some kind of western was playing on the TV and his window was clearly open too. The orchestral soundtrack and gunfire punctuating the spaces between their breathing. They would have to be quiet.

Roughly Derek pushed Spencer backwards and he landed with a thump in the chair, shirt akimbo, the first signs of his arousal beginning to tent the front of his pants. Derek fell to his knees in front of Spencer, pressing him firmly into the chair. He reached up to pull Spencer down for another kiss this one sucking across his jaw to bite and nibble at the sensitive spot below Spencer’s ear.

Derek traced lines down Spencer’s chest, following them with his tongue. Spencer grimaced, the sensation was close to tickling and it was making him shiver. He wriggled a little, trying to get away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Derek whispered, his voice low and heated. He grabbed Spencer by the thighs and pulled forward, throwing him off balance. Swiftly Derek unbuckled Spencer’s pants and tugged them down to his knees. Then, kneeling up he planted a hand firmly on Spencer’s chest to quash any further wriggling and wrenched them off completely, leaving Spencer in just his mismatched socks.

_Ok, now’s your moment to prove it Morgan._

Spencer hissed in surprise and kicked out, only to have his ankle caught in Derek’s grip.

“Good move kid, but you gotta know I’m faster?”

It felt a little like being on display at a meat market if he was honest. Derek was grinning, like he knew some massive secret and Spencer was tipped off balance barely keeping his grip on the chair. Slowly, Derek folded Spencer’s leg towards him, so his knee rested against his chest. Holding him there he knelt again, this time a little further away.

_Oh god._

Slowly at first, but with growing attitude Derek ran his tongue along Spencer’s shaft, as he picked up his pace he included his balls and every so often by pushing up on Spencer’s leg to spread and expose him he would dip his head further down to lick a wet stripe across his hole.  
Spencer was well aware he was panting, he mouth was completely dry. If he tried to speak, he knew a croak would be all he could manage. But it felt so good. Trapped under Derek’s unyielding grip, his own leg being used as a tool of restraint he could no more have escaped that chair than a canary her cage.

This is what he had been waiting for, a chance to yield to a man he admired and could be utterly controlled by, a man who he would trust with his life. He longed for more, to be stretched out and pulled apart. He whimpered softly, hoping to convey everything he was feeling.

“I got you Pretty Boy. I got you.” Derek murmured under his breath.  
  
With his free hand Derek hooked a small bottle of lube with a snap cap from his back pocket. At some point, Spencer hadn’t registered when, he had undone the bottom buttons of his shirt and peeled open the top of his pants. Now he dribbled lube over his cock and dropped the bottle, pumping his thick length several time before holding his glistening fingers up for Spencer to see.

Roughly Derek pushed Spencer back in the chair, but by contrast his touch against the smooth skin around Spencer’s entrance was a gentle caress. The lube was cold but plentiful and Spencer swallowed hard when Derek slid the first digit in, up to the first knuckle. He stroked in and out a few times, tortuously slowly until he had pressed in all the way. When he added his index finger Spencer let his head drop onto the back of the chair, eyes slipping closed. The smooth burn of Derek’s fingers inside him were competing for attention with Derek’s vice like grip on his ankle, a heady mix of danger and cathartic arousal.  
His eyes snapped open when he heard a shuffling and he felt the warm soft skin of Derek’s cock pressing insistently against him. Withdrawing his fingers Derek allowed his own weight to force the initial tentative press forwards.

“You ok kid, you want this?” Derek whispered

Spencer nodded an emphatic yes and Derek pushed forwards, rolling his hips to punctuate the end of the thrust. Spencer gasped, grasping at air until he found Derek’s arms, anchoring himself to the warm solid heat of his body.

“Alright,” Derek murmured “Alright, I know you can take this, and you’re going to, understand?”

Spencer moaned softly, reveling in the stretch and fullness he had been craving.

“Spence? You hear me?” Derek was hissing now “Tell me you’re gonna take this.”

“I can take this, I can.” Spencer replied

“I know you can, tell me you want to, that you’re going to..say please.”

Spencer grinned, they may have agreed not to profile within the team but he had Derek figured this far, he knew begging would be the thing that..backed over a barrel there, Derek was..maybe he was the one backed over a barrel..chair..

“Spence!”

“Oh God, yes, yes, sorry. Please, please move, I need to feel you move!” Spencer moaned. Having something of an unexpected fantasy not only present itself but then come gloriously into Technicolor life had definite disadvantages for coherent thought.

“Fine.” Derek grated out from between his clenched teeth. It was abundantly clear that remaining so still was not an option for much longer.

He rocked back into a straighter position and pulled Spencer’s folded leg towards his chest, using it at steadying leverage he began to thrust long languorous strokes that made Spencer gasp and arch his back into the motion. Only his shoulders and the edge of his ass were now touching the chair, everything else, his whole being was now in Derek’s hands or engaged in the sheer effort of encouraging Derek to greater efforts.

It was a clear message. Derek lifted his hand from Spencer’s leg and instead gripped the windowsill. With Spencer trapped between his unrelenting force and the chair, which in turn was braced against the wall he was free to thrust as hard as he wanted. Rather than withdraw and slam his body weight forwards as Spencer was perhaps expecting he was using every muscle in his legs to roll his hips up into the act, meaning his whole body was driving towards one goal.

Spencer could feel every motion, every drag of skin and puff of breath. He was close to overwhelmed. Sweat beaded across his forehead in his effort to brace himself properly for each thrust but he knew Derek was as unstoppable as a freight train. His cock ached for touch, and his whole body burned with the need to cum, the need to have Derek cum, for them both to relinquish whatever inhibitions they had left.  
As if he’d voiced his need aloud Derek snaked his free hand down to Spencer’s hips, wiggling him left a little and continued on to encircle Spencer’s length. Gently, without a full grip Derek began to thumb the tip as he continued fucking. The duel sensation was exquisite and Spencer held off no more than a few seconds before he was gulping air and painting his own chest with his cum.

"That's my boy." Derek grunted. "You're mine." 

Spencer nodded, "All yours." he managed through the spinning haze.

There was a determined set to Derek’s jaw, gripping Spencer’s hips he tugged him further forward, nearly off the chair, and roughly smeared Spencer’s cum into his chest. A few beats more and he was pushing as deep as he could inside, grunting quietly as he released everything he had inside.

He withdrew carefully, tugging Spencer to his feet and steering them directly to the shower.

“Huh, no better than my room.” He grouched as the stream failed spectacularly to cover both of them at once. Tenderly he washed Spencer’s back and shoulders, kneading them gently and pressing kisses to his neck to sooth any knots. By the time they had gotten themselves something approaching clean they were exhausted.

“Stay?” Spencer asked, as he tugged clean boxers on. He knew he was taking a risk with the question, but he needed to know the answer. This was all part of redefining boundaries.

“I will.” Derek said, “Let me go and get some things ok? I swear I’ll be right back.”

Spencer watched him go, half assuming he wouldn’t return. He wasn’t really sure how this was supposed to go. He’d never really had any kind of extended involvement with the guys he had been with. Certainly he’d never transitioned from friend to whatever this was turning into.

Derek returned from his room a few minutes later, clean clothes for the morning and a handful of files in his hand.

“I don’t think I’d wanna be caught in the hallway coming out of your room in my boxers.” He explained as he crawled into bed next to Spencer, searching for kisses. It was a good plan, Spencer wondered why he hadn’t thought of it himself.

He would have liked to say that it was strange to have someone share his bed, but if the truth be known, he slept better enveloped in Derek’s arms than he had in years.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“Concern should drive us into action and not into a depression. No man is free who cannot control himself.”_  
>  Pythagoras

**Aaron Hotchner**

The tree was solid. Aaron doubted that if he had reached out both arms and stretched as far as he could he wouldn’t have been able to make his hands meet around its trunk. At least he was relatively certain he was hidden from the view of torch beams in the gathering dark.The bark scratched against the back of his head as he leaned carefully back, trying not to make any sudden movements. Several meters away Rossi held up a finger to his lips. He nodded, this was all on Dave, he was the only one with a clear view to the campsite.

A car crunched over gravel in the gloom and the world got very narrow. Suddenly Rossi’s fist was in the air and they were rushing forwards. A positive sighting. Emily scooped up the young boy without missing a step and Morgan was wrestling the suspect to the ground. Everywhere lit up in pools of painful white as the police turned their spotlights on the camp.

Aaron knelt to look at the face of the swearing writhing man. He was gasping for breath, unable to catch it with Derek’s full weight on his chest. His heart sank. As much as he would have liked to wrap this out and return to the world of air conditioning and get out of the scratching heat and bug lamps this was not their unsub, not even close. This guy was at least a foot taller than McMasters, with dirty blond hair. Detective Rodgers wiggled his wallet out and handed it to JJ. 

"George Kingston." She said "Flattering photo.."

Days of careful planning and a string of abductions and right now the Alabama woods looked nothing but oppressive and impossibly dense. This didn’t land them at square one, but it was pretty fucking close. He set his jaw and looked down at his phone, no messages, Garcia hadn't found anything off the laptop they'd pulled in from the abandoned apartment either. 

“You think _he’ll_ talk to us?” Dave said, readjusting his vest and helping Derek up.

“It depends on what McMasters has on him, doesn’t it?” Aaron replied, “At least now we know for sure he doesn’t work alone.”

He gestured to the rest of the team to join him. “This isn’t over.” He said grimly. It was beginning to feel like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “We have to fill in more of the puzzle, rework what we can.”

JJ was already flipping open her phone, the suspect’s wallet in her hand. “Hey you, I need you to run a name..”

“I can think of a few questions I’d like answered.” Rossi said as JJ moved away, watching Kingston being bundled into the back of a squad car by the weary looking detective.

Aaron nodded, “Reid, head back with Rossi and wait for him to be processed, we’ll start the interrogations as soon as possible.”

And there it was again, the tiniest flicker of hesitation, Reid’s reaction ever so slightly behind itself and an near imperceptible shift in attitude from Morgan, something like acquiescence.

_What the hell is going on here?_

“Morgan,” he said after a moment’s thought. “You’re with me.”

They trekked back through the forest in relative quiet, only their torches to light the way. Through the trees the flashes of other lights followed them back to where they had left most of their cars.   
It took only moments to strip out of vests and stow them in the trunk, shaking off the worst of the loam and mud from their shoes. Aaron couldn’t see particularly clearly but he knew he was going to have to consider getting them professionally cleaned. He said as much.

“You need to get yourself some walking boots!” Derek said cheerfully.

_So much for the bad attitude._

“Yeah well my go-bag is already pretty cumbersome.” He joked, sliding into the driver’s side and the smell of pristine valeted civilization once more. It was widely remarked on that his bag was the lightest and yet Aaron was always the most impeccably turned out. He spun the window down a little ways to let in the night air. For all that he really didn’t relish the Great Outdoors there was a lot to be said for fresh air. He waited for the first of the squad cars to turn out of the drive of the little picnic spot before following.

“You OK Derek?” he asked, watching the road ahead.

Morgan sighed, stretching in his seat “Yeah, a little frustrated, I feel like there’s something we dont..”

“No I mean, you, are you alright?” It wasn’t like Aaron wasn’t completely focused on the case, its just the undercurrent of tension between certain members of the team was hard to ignore. But that said, he wasn’t even sure anyone else had picked up on it. Hell, maybe Morgan and Reid weren't even aware it was there.

“Fine Boss, all good.”

And there was the trademark Morgan smirk, just charming enough to make you wanna drop it, because after all _Morgan says it’s all good_. And it probably was, except for how it clearly wasn’t. “And Reid? Have you spoken to him much lately?”

Morgan didn’t visibly stiffen with tension, he just didn’t, but the metaphorical temperature inside the car certainly dropped a few degrees.

“He’s fine as far as I know.”

_Yeah, but what exactly do you know?_

“Look it’s none of my business unless it’s directly affecting his work but if he’s in trouble..” Aaron said evenly, hoping with everything he had that Spencer hadn’t tumbled off the only wagon he appeared to have ever ridden on. He was utterly sure he’d have been able to work that out for himself though.

“He’s fine.” Morgan said, and you could have sculpted ice with his tone.

_Alright, shut me out Morgan._

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Aaron trying not to speculate too much on what kind of trouble his team might have gotten themselves into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rapidly turning into an OT3 kinkfic, please send help!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.”_  
>  Alan Cohen

** Spencer Reid **

There were many things to recommend Richmond as a vacation spot, even if just for a weekend. The Edgar Allan Poe museum had been a fascinating, if not terribly immersive way to spend the afternoon and Reid was still flipping through the guidebook by the time they had made it back to the car to head home.

“I think the preservation of Poe’s workspace was probably based on guesswork, rather than the more traditional…” he peeled off, acutely aware Morgan had stopped listening. “Are you expecting a call?”

Morgan looked up and tucked his phone away in his back pocket, at least having the decency to look a little embarrassed. He shook his head. “Nah, I was just so convinced we’d be called in this weekend.”

Spencer waved the guidebook at him. “You just don’t like museums, that’s all, admit it.”

Derek caught him around the waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I like ‘em just fine pretty boy, just fine.”

**o**

Derek’s apartment smelled a little like new leather couch and a lot like Morgan. Spencer was somewhere between not needing to be asked to sit any more and not yet able to fetch himself a drink. Everything about the place seemed to ooze the sense that it belonged unequivocally to Morgan.

_So do you._

He shivered, the last thing he wanted to do was start feeling like part of the furniture. Forniphilia was not high on his wishlist at any rate.   
He chuckled at his own joke, then automatically took a breath in to explain when Derek looked up from stirring pasta. He closed his mouth, re-evaluating the wisdom of having to explain why it took him so long to feel comfortable in spaces that didn’t belong to him, how that related to extreme bondage and human sculpture connected by a funny if tenuous…he shrugged. “Smells good.”

“Oh you think so?”

Spencer moved to dip a finger in the sauce and got a rap on his knuckle from the wooden spoon. It made him think of other, less nutritionally balanced activities and he blushed. That most certainly _was_ on his wishlist.

They ate at the small round dining table near the kitchen while Marvin Gaye played softly in the background. Derek talked about his early life with the bomb squad while surreptitiously holding his hand and Spencer realized he could almost believe that he was being romanced. The walls suddenly felt a great deal closer than they used to, the window, frighteningly small.  
He barely said a word throughout the meal, hoping desperately that Morgan would keep talking so he wouldn’t have to. He listened to anecdotes about people he’d never met, confusing jumbles of names and procedures he couldn’t place in context until finally Derek seemed to notice something wasn’t right.

“Spence?” He said, “You’ve been quiet a whole ten minutes, you ok?”

Spencer nodded, feeling like he was trapped in a thousand degree oven. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Derek frowned and laid his fork down on his nearly empty plate. He stood and reached a hand out to encourage Spencer to follow suit. Gradually he slipped his hands around Spencer’s waist and leaned in for a kiss, just like at the car in Richmond. Spencer swallowed. He felt like ants were crawling under his skin, everywhere hot prickly heat.

“I just..”

“Shh, it’s ok.” Derek whispered, leading him to the bedroom.

Morgan’s room was dark, the bed was huge and comfortable, too many pillows and a thick comforter in high quality black cotton. Spencer stretched out and tried to relax as Derek stretched out beside him, running a hand over his ribs. He arched up into the touch, trying to make Derek press harder. But gentle was apparently all that was on his mind.   
Slowly Derek caressed the skin under Spencer’s shirt, feeling the curves and angles he was beginning to know so well. Spencer found himself responding to his touch in the best ways, growing hard and returning his kisses, but it wasn’t enough, he wanted _more_.

“Derek?” He said breathlessly, breaking away slightly. He felt antsy, comfortable in his desires, but not in asking for them. Vocalization seemed immediate, final.

_He’s not a mind reader._

He stilled Derek’s hands with his own, trying to get him to focus and listen. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, it seemed disastrously loud, his ears were ringing. He figured the best way to phrase this was just to come out and say it, after all, Derek had known exactly what he needed at the hotel in California. He was getting uncomfortably hard, straining against his fly. It wasn’t too much of a stretch, just a bit of a jump from possessive, play-fighting role play to..

“Do you think you could spank me?”

Derek jumped up like he’d been burned.

“What?”

**_Shit._ **

Spencer fought with every fiber not to turn away, to curl up in a ball and be forgotten. Shame began to burn hot in his cheeks and he stammered, trying to articulate an apology for even asking.

“I..uh…its really just..I don’t..”

Derek was at his side in an instant, smoothing back his hair and forcing Spencer to look at him.

“Oh Spencer, hey, Spence, I’m sorry, you caught me by surprise.” He caught up Spencer and pressed them together, cradling and hooking limbs over limbs until he was no longer curled up in himself. He had a half a thought that it probably felt a little like wrangling an octopus, which made him smile.

Derek pressed kisses to his temple until he began to relax, his breathing slowed until they were once again calm, nose to nose, Derek’s hands caressing every inch of skin he could get to.

“I didn’t know you liked it rough.” Derek said.

Spencer shrugged, like it wasn’t everything in the world to him. “You seemed to be doing ok in that regard so far.”

“Yeah but that’s like, I dunno, wrestling, that’s just me being bigger, stronger than you, I can do that!”

It seemed like such a small step before he’d said it, but he tried looking at it from Derek’s angle. That step could well be insurmountably wide. He tried not to think about what that would mean, whether he could give up on that need for bright illuminating clarity that only came with measured pain.

“I’m not sure I can Spence..” Derek was saying, like Spencer had asked to order something he didn’t like from the takeout.

“It’s ok.” Spencer said, and even to him his voice sounded small, terribly far away.

He relaxed and let Derek make his apology how he wanted, all soft fingers and attentive kisses and his heart ached for clarity.


End file.
